Waiting
by Fizzing Wizard
Summary: Ayumu waits for Hiyono every day, but not for the reason she wants... Implied Hiyumu.


Heeeeey, first Spiral fanfic! And it's Hiyumu, of course. I'm only partway through the anime and manga series, so forgive me if there are any mistakes. I'm trying to discipline myself and not read spoilers this time. But I love Ayumu's and Hiyono's relationship, and had to write something on it. This isn't my best work, by any means… it gets pretty weak toward the end. I'll try harder next time, but I hope you enjoy!

One more thing – since both Spiral and House M.D. are Sherlock Holmes spin-offs, I included a quote from House in here somewhere. Should be obvious for House fans… brownie points to whoever finds it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Spiral… if I did Ayumu would wear a double-lidded hat, smoke a pipe and say, "Elementary, my dear Yuizaki…"

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_Waiting_

He was leaning in the doorway with his eyes trained on the sky. The wind carelessly toyed with a strand of his dark brown hair, lifting and curling it like foam on an ocean wave. He either didn't notice or didn't care, but remained in the same position: head tilted back, one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, and that far-off look Hiyono so hated in his eyes.

She knew why he waited – for her. Otherwise he would be on his way home by now to make sure the crock pot chicken wasn't overdone, or to wash the laundry Madoka left lying around, or some other chore that gave him so much pleasure. Maybe the ritual tasks allowed him a break from overwhelming storm of his life, and that was why he engaged in them so often; more likely he relished the refreshing simplicity of domestic chores. Despite his ability to easily adapt to any new environment, Ayumu was by nature a creature of habit, and after a while the disruptions in his daily flow took their toll on him. He needed normality to remind himself what it was he fought for, but he was a Narumi. Beyond that, he was Kiyotaka's little brother. Normality was a luxury he couldn't afford.

He had two constants. One, that he'd have to make sure Madoka didn't oversleep in the morning, or she'd be rushing around at quarter to eight half-dressed with a piece of raisin toast dangling from her mouth. Two, that after school Hiyono would track him down, super sleuth that she was, and either follow him home chattering gaily or make him buy her a parfait at their favorite ice cream parlor. The women in his life mothering him, bothering him and fussing over him inhibited the strict sense of time that governed his life. If he awoke to Madoka's snoring, it meant she was safe, he was alive, things were the same. If he was met by Hiyono's cheerful morning greeting at the school gate, then she was happy, and he could go on living in misery, because she never gave up on him. That was because Hiyono had a constant as well. As long as Ayumu was miserable, Hiyono would take him by the hand and be his guiding light.

She was rarely granted much of a reaction from him. Still she wanted – needed – to affirm he was responding to her efforts. He'd grin now and then. Sometimes he'd offer an amused chuckle. But then he'd fall back into that same gloom, when his voice was thick with untold layers of pain. She was slowly learning to discern which layer was topmost at any time. Guilt ruled over him first and foremost. She'd learned to identify bitterness, jealousy, and regret from the way his pitch would drop or quiet. One melancholy note was all she needed. He'd become more adept at hiding the emotions on his face that he'd forgotten how telling a single word could be.

Even if he ever masked his voice with such efficiency that even she couldn't read him, that immense sorrow always lay bare in his eyes.

Just as the Blade Children were Ayumu's reason to wake up each day, Hiyono had made him her own project. The day he'd fallen asleep on her shoulder, she'd made her decision. If not to win his affection, at least she could be by his side. She made him get up and she made him do the ordinary things ordinary people do – for each other. Because he was altogether too solitary.

She was good at her self-appointed job. No one else could make him smile the way she could. He'd gone the distance for her numerous times, and she for him. Certainly he'd done all the really cool things, like rescuing her from Kousuke, and risking his own life to set her free in Rio's twisted game. She couldn't think on her feet the way he could, couldn't put two and two together in the chambers of her brain. She needed her little book of gossip to prove her worth for her. But she believed in him. Even when he couldn't. She loved him – all of him. Even when he couldn't. Maybe _because _he couldn't.

And most baffling of all– he _admired _her ability to trust in him.

He knew she was coming; she'd caught the subtle flick of his eye in her direction before he returned his attention to the deep summer sky. It annoyed her to know he was waiting for her because she was his deputy. She was honored to be thought of as such; to be Ayumu Narumi's partner was more than a privilege, it was a gift. After all, he was a genius.

But just once she'd like to imagine he was waiting for her because he desired her company, because he wanted to talk about something other than murders and crimes and mysteries. Without a purpose, it could become routine. He'd wait at the door as she gossiped with her friends, then they'd walk to the café by the station where the students gathered to sip root beer floats on the twirling stools. By the time they finished their floats and a shared tub of nachos between them, the sun would be setting and they'd watch the fire glittering on the river from the bridge.

But he was too restless to be content with such moments. It hurt to know that as soon as she was no longer useful to him, he would discard her and return to his bubble of solitude. She could look in, but would never really see; he would look out, but what he would see wouldn't be real.

There is a thin line between love and hate. But the gap between love and friendship is even wider.

He'd finally had enough of waiting. "Hey, sometime before winter!"

Hiyono took a deep breath, setting her cheerful mask. "I'm coming, Narumi-san, don't be so hasty!" She grinned brightly as she rushed to his side carrying her shoes.

"Let's go, I'm starving." Ayumu started down the steps.

"One minute, I have to put my shoes on," Hiyono protested, bending over. She heard him groan and chuckled softly to herself.

She stood and met Ayumu's gaze. He made an odd gluttural noise and gave an impatient jerk of his head. _"Honestly, you take forever…" _Her heart filled with warmth. She skipped ahead of him, knowing his frown was just for her. He didn't face her with the aloof coldness that was his trademark. Any sign of emotion was enough, knowing it was because of her. Even if that the emotion was negative.

She felt his eyes on her and knew his brain was churning, trying to interpret her pensive mood. The lapse of sound slipped away comfortably; this was how they were, content in speech, content in silence. He didn't like to talk, and she didn't need words to know what he felt.

Hiyono smiled to herself. That's right; she didn't need him to tell her she was important. _It's not what people say. It's what they do. _And didn't he show her daily how he felt? A cheeky tap on the head, a possessive hand on her arm, his face so close to hers as they scrolled down the computer screen together. She knew it when she sang and he didn't tell her the song was strange, when he gave in to her pleas and spent an hour trying to win her a toy at the arcade. When he let her into his house. When he confided in her about Kiyotaka…

She started skipping ahead of him. "What are you waiting for? I thought we had important business to discuss over parfaits!"

He blinked at her sudden change of countenance. Then a muscle in his cheek jerked. _"I _thought I was waiting for _you."_

"You could have gone on ahead," she said innocently, braids bouncing along with her legs. "You didn't have to wait for me."

He fell into stride beside her, face once again impassive. "You're so naïve," he said.

_That's right, Narumi-san. _Hiyono hummed to herself, wondering at the sight the two of them made. There she was, hopping along the roadside and singing, and he trudged along in silence, staring blankly at something in the sky only he could see.

_I'm the sun to your rain, the cheer to your melancholy. I want to keep you looking up, up, up… And until you're strong enoug to hold your head up by yourself, I'll keep waiting…_

She'd always wait. Even if it took a lifetime for just one smile.

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Well, there you have it. It's got no point, and is mostly random thoughts. I'll probably revise it later when I'm concentrating more. In the meantime, review and tell me your thoughts!


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